


Shiny

by Nyxierose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which something is (possibly) lost, Marcus does not do anything halfway, and Abby has moved forward with her life thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny

The ring is gone.

It is halfway through a Council meeting and Marcus really ought to be paying attention to the latest report about hunting or plants or whatever-the-hell, but his entire world has been reduced to the woman next to him. That in itself is common, not just here but almost every time he's been in the same space as her for the last few weeks, but it's not even _all_ of her this time. No, all he sees is her left hand and the hollow below her neck and the conspicuous absence of simple metal on both of those places.

He gets it, or at least he'd like to think he does. His dad died when he was eight, a quick natural death like rarely ever happened on the Ark, and his mother wore the rings for a good five years after and it was quite a big deal in their little corner of the world when she gave them to be reallocated. Grief is a long painful process, and Marcus has always had a great respect for those who take their time working through loss. And until very recently, Abby was no different. Perhaps a little more painful, given his own role in her sorrow, but that fragment of a detail played no role in how he treated her. She remained in a place of mourning, and he let her be, and the flittering thoughts of how lovely she was remained safely ignored.

Not that he's really done anything in the last few weeks, he reminds himself as he wonders absently if anyone's noticed he's spent the last two minutes fixated on his co-leader's entwined fingers. He's just… slightly less opposed to the idea. Or at least he was, and then she went and lost her most precious belongings.

They _have_ to be lost. He _knows_ her, he's known her in passing since they were children and on a more intimate level for over a decade, and he's seen her clutch her husband's ring for strength within the last week and if he's sure of anything, it's that Abby will not voluntarily remove those pieces for an extended period of time at any point in the foreseeable future. Which means that she managed to lose them, and that in turn leads to a fantastically bad idea. Erm, a fantastic idea that could go wrong in about a thousand different ways.

Marcus is not a believer in Grand Romantic Gestures, but that's okay because this isn't one. It's just something a good friend might do, and he is solidly her friend above everything else and he can only imagine the panic she feels over this seemingly small incident. He highly doubts she'll mention it to anyone - she's just as much a natural martyr as he is, albeit with more of an emotional bent as opposed to his physical sacrifices - and it will absolutely make her week if he finds the lost objects for her. Or if someone else does, if anyone else locates and appropriately identifies them first, but he doubts that will happen. No one else pays that much attention to her. But he does, and he's a little worried, and he is _going_ to solve this problem if it is the last thing he does.

Clearly, there's no way this can _possibly_ go wrong.

\--------

Two days later, Marcus takes advantage of a minor cave-in as an excuse to take apart as much of Medical as possible. Two plain metal rings cannot be _that_ hard to find, but the problem is that most of the fixtures in Medical are very low to the ground, and… quite frankly, he's not as young as he once was and he can't help wondering if he's going to be able to make it up off the ground before someone wanders in here in search of supplies. At the moment, the odds are about fifty-fifty, and then he hears footsteps and starts to panic.

If it's Abby, he is absolutely _fucked_. If it's Jackson, the most likely scenario, there is a good chance Marcus is going to learn what level of violence a thirty-year-old whose entire professional training has occurred in this space is capable of. But it is neither of those people. Instead, it's a lost-looking teenage boy. One of the Survivors, Marcus is pretty sure, but fuck if he can remember the names of any of the quiet ones and this kid in particular is a complete blank. Good because that means harmless; bad because that means no idea what they're gonna do or who they're gonna tell about the current scene.

"What are you doing?" the boy asks, stopping a cautious few feet away. Smart, this one, definitely smart if nothing else.

"Looking for something," Marcus replies, deciding to go with a vague version of the truth.

"Looking for what?" The kid kneels down next to him, dropping on all fours and tilting his head so he can see underneath the set of supply lockers.

"Two rings. A friend of mine lost them."

The kid turns a little bit, rolls his eyes in a way that indicates he knows _exactly_ what's going on. "Need help?"

"Not really?"

" _Want_ help?"

Marcus weighs the odds. On the one hand, secrecy is the main element of this project and god only knows how much of a mouth this kid's got. On the other hand, two people can cover way more ground, and judging by the fact that he still can't even guess at a name for this one, there's a very useful element of invisibility as well. Pros slightly outweigh cons. "Yes."

\--------

Monty Green does not need a project, per say. What Monty Green needs is a hug, a puppy, a squishy blanket, and maybe some _proper_ alcohol. But with none of those things easily available (the only person he was really physically affectionate with has found a way to completely avoid him, and the other wants are almost unthinkable), he's been trying to keep himself as occupied as possible to distract from the weird shit in his head. Unfortunately, none of those plans have worked out so well. He's a misfit in Engineering, a section composed _exclusively_ of misfits so that should not even be _possible_ but apparently it is. Fight training lasted all of fifteen minutes before Octavia politely pulled him aside and explained in that kind but also completely terrifying way only she can do that _maybe_ the world would be a safer place if he never thought about picking up a sword _ever ever again_. Foraging is out of the running because that's Jasper's area of expertise, hunting just brings up the weapon problem again, and nobody else has any idea what to do with him. So he wanders around a lot, and it's boring as hell and completely unhelpful, and then he finds the best distraction ever. Or at least that's what he thinks at the time.

When he wanders into Medical, he's in search of sleeping pills because he was told he could have them if he needed them and oh does he ever need them. What he actually finds is a former Chancellor on hands and knees in search of his girlfriend's missing jewelry, and isn't that just a normal afternoon in Monty's life. Romantic entanglements are not something he has any personal experience with, but he's definitely seen everyone else's mistakes. His parents' version of domestic bliss, Jasper's tendency to crush on anything with a pulse, the varying blossoming relationships amongst his default peer group… nothing really fazes him anymore. The moment love is established as a motivation, Monty completely understands, and the moment the word "friend" comes out of the older man's mouth, Monty doesn't need to know anything else beyond what the hell they're looking for.

He doesn't want to be a nuisance, he really doesn't. He wants to _help_ people, he wants something worth living for to balance out the horrific nightmares he has every night that Nate - not Miller anymore, not now, Nate - isn't any help with, he wants to be human again. How exactly getting pulled into the complicated love life of two of the camp's leaders counts towards that, Monty isn't totally sure, but it does. Somehow.

He's invisible, and invisible means he can go places no one else can. He's always had that gift - it was a lot of fun when he was younger, not so much now but it's still convenient. It gives him a nice excuse for being just about anywhere, and the fact that he can make his eyes look all big and convincingly say he's just lost goes the rest of the way. He manages to scope out Medical on three separate occasions that way, because nobody's going to ask too many questions to a documentedly traumatized seventeen-year-old and really he's only noticed the one time and even that's more of a passing glance than anything significant. Monty has a _gift_ , and hopefully someday he'll find a better way to use it but for now this is enough to keep him distracted for a few hours each day and that's all he really wants.

Okay, he would still like a puppy, but he's trying to be realistic. (Octavia's boyfriend has said some stuff about feral cats, and Monty supposes that would be acceptable too. Maybe.)

\--------

Eventually, the search expands to the outdoor areas of camp. By this point, Monty has been involved for a week and Marcus - the older man _insists_ on being referred to by his first name, like there's some sort of persona he's running from - is getting on what few nerves he still has. People old enough to be his parents are not supposed to be romantics! Especially when they are _useless_ romantics and determined to, say, turn the camp upside-down in search of something insignificant instead of doing anything _practical_ about their situation! Of course, Monty does not say any of this because he is a nice person and because it's nice to feel wanted even if that's only because he's small and invisible and still has good joints, but he's definitely thinking it. Even more so than usual when, for some reason, they have to check the shooting range.

As far as Monty is concerned, this is the dumbest idea yet because okay, he doesn't exactly follow Chancellor Griffin's movements like a lovesick hawk _unlike some people_ but even he can figure out that she has probably not spent any significant amount of time training with guns. Naturally, this means Marcus is _convinced_ that's a logical place to go looking, and Monty follows because if he's good at one thing in this world, it's keeping an eye on crazy people. (He grew up with Jasper. This is still not even _close_ to the weirdest series of events he's ever been a part of.)

And okay, crawling around on the grass feels kinda nice. There's a thin layer of snow to contend with, yes, but spring is _nearly_ here and it's definitely in the air and for a few beautiful moments, Monty forgets that his current situation is going to be hard to explain to anyone who might possibly find them. Which, knowing his luck, will happen any second now.

"What are you two doing?"

 _Bingo_.

"Have you by chance seen two simple brass rings?" Marcus asks, not even bothering to look up and see who the interloper is.

"Don't think so."

At this, Monty sees an opportunity. He doesn't mind being the keeper of the crazy, but it gets a little lonely and he'd take literally any help at this point. "Want to help us look? Please?" And initiate puppy eyes for maximum effect, because please oh _please_ someone save him before the self-destructive thoughts start again.

"Alright."

\--------

If this whole scenario had occurred at literally any other time during that spring, Lincoln would've had the sense to stay out of it. Unfortunately, it had to happen the same day his dearest darlingest found a cat. Well, maybe "cat" is not the right word for the creature. The species may have _originated_ from that point, but a hundred years of evolution and radiation led to a small fluffball of pure terror. Pretty harmless if you stay out of their way, but that's a fantastic _if_ and of course Octavia had found a baby one and decided she wanted it as a _pet_. And, as far as he could figure, there was no way to explain that it was a terrible idea - at least, no way that wouldn't leave him in need of temporary sleeping arrangements for a few days until she calmed down. Thus, avoiding the situation was the only acceptable option, and taking a walk seemed like as good a method as any. Just for an hour or so, just long enough for the little monster to get bitey. And that, in turn, gets him in over his head in an entirely different way.

Over the last few months, he's seen quite an array of strange things. Cultural confusion being what it is, he's become pretty oblivious to most of it - if there seems to be a purpose, if no one else is side-eyeing the situation, he accepts it as normal and lets it be. Somehow, he doubts that the unusual duo searching the shooting range for something _other_ than bullet casings is anyone's idea of normal.

What the hell, Lincoln thinks. He needs to kill a few hours before someone goes looking for him because his girlfriend is in Medical and getting a few stitches because she thought that cuddling with a creature whose teeth are sharper than knives was the best idea ever. There are worse ways to do that, right?

But like every other time he has tried to get involved in literally anything since the Descent, it's way more complicated than it looks, and once again he finds himself keeping tabs on people who genuinely do not know better. Thankfully, this time they're just a hazard to themselves - although that's small consolation once he finds out what's really going on.

He doesn't quite get the concept of wedding rings, but he does get why losing such an important object is a Big Deal. He's just… decidedly less convinced that they're actually _lost_.

"Maybe she chose to stop wearing them?" he suggests after what Monty informs him is thorough check number four of Council chambers.

"No," Kane insists. "She wouldn't do that."

Lincoln remains unconvinced, but he doesn't exactly say as much. At least, not to the relevant idiots. He does, however, inform one other person of this latest ascendant disaster.

\--------

Octavia is in a mood. The stupid bite is apparently _infected_ , which means that in addition to being unable to do anything interesting until her hand heals, she's on pills that make her head spin and thus confined to her sleepspace until things get better. This is totally what she gets for trying to do something normal. The little creature was cute, but damn did it ever have teeth and she's got one more interesting scar as a result. And a migraine. And a newfound distrust of anything fluffy. And a slightly worse than usual mental state because isolation is the worst idea _ever_ for her but she can't exactly ask people to keep her company and Lincoln is a saint but she draws the line at imposing on him like that over something as small as a bad reaction to painkillers and-

"If I tell someone they need to stop, how likely is it they'll listen?" the man in question asks, slipping into their tent.

"Which someone are we talking, what have they done, and how dangerous is it?" Octavia counters. This, she thinks, could make the haze go away for a while.

"Kane has convinced himself that the Chancellor's wedding rings have gone missing. She is widowed, yes?"

"Yep."

"So this is _not_ a huge problem?"

"Shouldn't be, but he doesn't exactly do things halfway and-"

Lincoln sighs, burying his face in his hands as he sits down next to his partner. "And telling him won't stop him?"

"That'd probably make it worse. Although you could try. Just wait a few days until I feel functional enough to watch."

\--------

Octavia, in turn, semi-accidentally tells Raven four days later. Raven tells half of Engineering that afternoon because she needs to get it out of her system, and the relevant parts of that rant are watched via camera by two guards who previously _hated_ video surveillance duty, and one of those guards just happens to have a girlfriend who knows _everyone_ , and the entire camp knows within two days.

Abby, unsurprisingly, is the last person to find out. Also, the only person who doesn't think it's funny.

\--------

Marcus is half-asleep when he hears a loud insistent knocking on his door. Immediately, he jolts upright and manages to get his jacket on before he crosses the small room, convinced that it's an emergency. It is not. What it _is_ is a very petite and very pissed-off woman who, well… when he'd envisioned her invading his sleeping quarters, it had _not_ been under these circumstances. But she's there, leaning against the doorframe with absolute murder in her eyes, and he figures he might as well keep his trap shut until he finds out what he's apparently done _this time_.

"Explain to me why _I_ had to explain to _seven different people_ today that I did not lose my wedding rings," she growls, hands on her hips in that way that really should not be so hot when she looks like she wants to eat him alive. There are no questions, just total awareness of the situation, and that adds even further to the terrifying hotness and oh this is definitely gonna be how his life ends.

"Because you did?" Marcus somehow manages to reply. She did… right?! She's not wearing them, and they're important, and-

"No. No, I did _not_ lose them," she growls again, only slightly less intimidating now.

"But. You're. Not. Wearing. Them."

Abby rolls her eyes, and the non-verbal implication of "look what I get to spend my evening dealing with" might as well be a siren. "Good. At least your eyes work better than your brain."

There are a thousand questions spinning through Marcus's brain, most of them about her emotional stability and what exactly she needs from him and why she's this livid about him trying to do something _nice_ when she's only spent about the last five years hissing at him for not having a heart, but somehow only one word comes out. "Why?"

"Two years is a long time," she breathes, softening her stance. "People can move forward. I wasn't sure I ever would, but… I've started to. I'm always going to feel terrible about what happened, about my role in it, but the pain isn't quite as bad as it used to be. I don't need to carry the physical reminder that I got my first love killed. I am not defined by that act anymore."

"Then what did you do with them?"

"I found a small box on a scavenging trip. Which is now safely among my clothes. I highly doubt anyone will have a valid reason to go searching through my underwear drawer," she laughs. "I have to ask, though… why were you so concerned?"

Okay, _this_ is the part where he signs his own death warrant.

"Because… I notice you. It's gotten hard not to. I see the little things, the way you move differently when you're tired, the way you bite your lip when you're overwhelmed, the way you clutch Jake's ring when you need strength. And I looked at you two weeks ago and I saw that the ring wasn't _there_ and my first reaction was blind panic."

"So you're actually telling me that you did something this completely ridiculous because you were _worried_ about me?!"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

For a moment he's convinced he's hallucinating, but then she leans in and gently presses her mouth to his and _okay he is definitely not hallucinating_. It's almost completely innocent, but he lets himself drown in the softness of her and it might well be the best moment of his life.

"What just happened?"

"You are the most oblivious person I've ever known," she mutters, and then she kisses him again and there is nothing else.

 


End file.
